Mirrors
by Mesua Ferrea
Summary: Devil Survivor 2. Differences shouldn't exist if your sole purpose in life is to be a replacement.


A/N: Here's another Miyako Hotsuin fic. I really like the idea of her since you can do anything with her character.

Characters: Yamato, and Miyako Hotsuin

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: I don't own Devil Survivor 2

Comments and criticisms would be appreciated.

I would like to thank my proofreader, Minerva, for always looking over my work.

* * *

A young girl sits at the base of an apple tree, petals are scattering in the springtime breeze. Her silver hair is adorned with a pretty pink bow on the crown,sways. Her rose dress, of the finest of cloths, remains in place, bunching up around her.

Had one taken a closer look, this little girl is just like a china doll: fair skin, beautiful hair and dainty clothing. Her large eyes are glassy and her lashes are long. On her small hands, she wears laced gloves. She is absolutely stunning and you can tell from just one look that she is destined to be the ideal lady.

She quietly reads her book, Pride and Prejudice. It's her only favourite story and she believes that any proper lady should be well rehearsed in the classics.  
She is from nobility of the highest pedigree, making her ideal in the upper ranks of society.

Everything seems to fit into line, save her personality. She isn't warm or sunny. As for kindness, she lacks any as she often demeans the masses. She isn't aware of her faults.  
She thinks of herself kind for being honest and brilliant for trying to bring out one's true potential. This child does not possess the skill of socialising.

Her mirror reflects everything but the secrets that dwells within her.

Miyako continues to read her book, blissful that no one can disturb her. Soft steps are heard from the distance but she continues to read.

Lessons are over for the day so any requests made to her now will have to wait until she completes the chapter.

They become louder but then they stop; an uneasy feeling washes over her.

Miyako does not wish to look up and loose her valuable time. Moments pass and the instinct to do so causes her to finally stop; she raises her head.

Miyako gasps for the person that lies ahead of her is almost a spitting image of her.

Hair, grey just like hers, lightly sways in the breeze but it was shorter. Cold silver eyes pierce through her. Everything looks the same. Their face and aura are identical.

This doppelganger is… her brother, future master of the clan.

She closes her book, not caring where she left off, and trembles.

It was understood by Miyako, her mentors, and entire family that she is to never meet her brother.

They may have been nurtured in the womb at the same time but she was born moments after him. From there, the divide started and she was separated from her brother.  
Miyako only knew his name from overhearing her family whisper and gossip about his progress- Yamato.

It is funny in a way. His name means Japan and he is destined to be influential- to be a leader. Her name means capital, related to a country but is not as strong as the unified collective. She'll always be overlooked and if he dies… the one named Miyako disappears while a strong Japan stands.

Indeed. This was her life- to only amount to be a replacement. Everything about her belongs solely to him and she is trapped.

It is also her duty to never meet her brother. She has to learn about him through others and can only imitate his being.

Yet…here he stands, the sole reason of her existence.

She fumbles, desperately trying to get up, and tries to run.

"Halt."

She freezes upon command.

His voice is devoid of emotion… It is cold and callous and far too similar to hers.  
He quickly makes his way to Miyako, frowning as soon as his feet touch the barely damp grass.

"Turn around."

Miyako does this but places the book in front of her face.

"This is getting annoying. I demand to see your face. I will not tolerate anyone not adhering to my commands."

The wind continues to scatter and Yamato clicks his tongue. With one hand, he viciously snatches the book and throws it to the ground.

He stares at the cover and from his lips passes a strained laugh.

"Better. Now let's see what we have here."

He walks around her in some odd square-like formation and scoffs. Miyako's eyes never stray from looking at the ground.

"How revolting…"

Miyako shudders. Of course he would say that, especially when they share the same face and she ruins any masculinity the other possesses.

"You're supposed to be my replacement?" He moves and harshly whispers in her ear, "Then you should act like it."

She clenches her eyes shut and bites her tongue. She can't cry now or dare even to retaliate. He has control over her and any signs of dissent would be punishable.

"You're a disgrace to not only me but the Hotsuin family."

The remark is cold and pierces the skin. Miyako looks up, eyes overfilling with fury.

"And on what grounds are you basing your accusation on?"

Her chest caves in by a bit and her heart feels pulverised. She shouldn't have said that. Instinct tells her to run but she swallows to keep the bile down and looks up.  
Her sight turns fuzzy and black for a moment- her cheek stings. Miyako moves her hand to touch the spot in stupor.

Yamato had slapped her without hesitation.

She winces as her eyes meet his glare.

"Why… did you do that?"

"Have you not learned a thing? Do I have to punish you again? You're my replacement, albeit a terrible one at that, so you need to improve."

"That's-! How dare you-"

He covers her mouth, hands terribly cold.

"Shhh… You shouldn't talk like that." He chuckles, "Your voice is too high. You'll never be me like that."

Yamato removes his hand from her mouth and sneers.

"…What?" She glowers and before Miyako can say anymore, Yamato walks away.

She stands in that spot for what seems to be ages.

The wind whispers, "Try harder from now on, dear sister."

Miyako is pulled back to reality and leaves the spot, book in hand. All thoughts concerning Yamato are suppressed- she couldn't stand thinking about her rude brother.

However, something had changed. What it was, she did not know but something had indeed changed.

* * *

Class with her tutors resumes a little earlier than normal. She overhears her few instructors chatter about her receiving a new one. Miyako sighs. It was normal for her to never get an early notice for a change in schedule.

She works on her problems, something any normal child should be unable to do, but this was the Hotsuin way. The family needs her to be an adult faster so she can assist with the family's goal. This only slightly motivates her to work faster but she suddenly stops when stray words are caught.

"New… vocal instructor…"

She drops her pen and becomes resigned, lost in her thoughts.

It stays like that for some time until her last lesson with her new tutor. There is something Miyako can safely assume about this woman- she would be strict and expect perfection on the first try.

There were no introductions. The teacher would remain as teacher, nameless.

"Talk," the command is quick and a little below a suitable conversation volume.

Miyako breathes in, calming her nerves, and responds, "What should I say?"

The instructor inwardly sighs as she brings her hand to her temples.

"Your voice isn't suited to this. You're far too young for surgery so this will have to do."

Miyako clenches her fists. She did not enjoy being informed of why this woman was her tutor or what made her not suitable to whatever she wants accomplished. She is a Hotsuin, destined to be brilliant!

"What are you-"

"Don't raise your voice or talk fast," her voice is callous and stern. "You need to have a lower voice for reasons I don't dare meddle with. I heard the person you needed to sound like and your voice is too high, not suitable in the least!"

Miyako looks down; her assumption was right in that this is Yamato's doing. The elders must have been in agreement for her to go through this. Her voice simply isn't good enough to match her brother's.

"…How will I be able to attain a lower voice?"

"Talk slower. If you speak too fast, you'll lose it."

"I can-"

"No, you cannot. You'll jump tones, making a fool of yourself."

Miyako bites her lip, knowing the consequences. She'll be reprimanded if that happens.

"You also need to speak from your stomach. It'll create that pitch you want. You do that by swallowing, lowering your Adam's apple, and the last movement before you swallow is where you want it. If you don't like that, lower the back of your tongue into your throat."

Miyako swallows, trying to find that perfect position then starts speaking slow. From the look of her instructor, it seems like she needs more practice.

Classes last like this for some time, each gaining little improvement. By the time it is over, Miyako loses her soft voice. It morphs into something that isn't hers to begin with.

Miyako searches through her closet, trying to find her favourite clothes and accessories. They're all gone, leaving only clothes identical to his.

It stings and she can only remember, 'You'll never be me like that.'

And so… she wears them with false pride.

* * *

Verdant leaves fade to autumns and soon the tree is bare. Winter's presence has crept into the manor. Even though it is Christmas, the clan is busy with matters dealing with Japan. Vacations do not exist and aren't considered a word by their standards.

Miyako walks through the empty halls, feeling ennui. She didn't want to read, not after all the troubles she was put into.

Her subtle steps do not echo in the halls. She is a shadow and very few should know of her presence.

A loud tapping echoes in the halls- someone is approaching. It is an oddity as very few ever venture into this wing of the house.

Before she can run, Miyako is stopped in her place as she sees the person she does not wish to encounter.

"Why… if it isn't my sister. You know… we never did properly introduce. It's obvious you know who I am and I clearly know that you're my sister but I need to know your name."  
He laughs and Miyako is unsure if the other is oblivious to his surroundings.

"And why do you need to know my name? It'll be useless anyway. It's just a throwaway," she nonchalantly replies, unwilling to give the other satisfaction.

"Oh? Well that's good to hear… you almost have my voice, Miyako."

Miyako steps back, looking into the distance. She had never given the other her name so he must have taken the liberty to find out himself.

She feels a slight tug to her head and notices Yamato, twirling the locks between his fingers.

"I said you needed to try hard. You just haven't reached… your full potential, have you? I suppose you need one more push."

He lets go, walking away.

Miyako drops to the floor, fists pounding against the polished wood.

Everything is being consumed.

* * *

"Miyako," the old voice croons, cold and sharp.

Miyako looked up from her books, disinterested with whatever the elder had to say. It is understood by the household that she is not to be interrupted until she has completed her studies yet here her Grandmother was.

She gets up from the chair and bows.

"Good afternoon, Grandmother. Is there something you need from me?"

She looks up and sees the elderly lady's scowl, making her wrinkles become trenches. She never could tolerate children.

"Indeed there is. Your Grandfather told me to wait, but this is of the utmost importance."

"Importance? What do you-"

"Hush, you impatient child! You should be grateful that I ignored your little mess up for your sake."

Miyako swallows; it is painful and her throat is unbearably dry. She licks her chapped lips.

"Mess up…? Whatever could you mean?"

"You are quite lucky that your brother has decided to keep you under his jurisdiction or you would have been punished for your behaviour months ago!"

Nervously, Miyako braids her hair. Under her breath, she resents herself for meeting Yamato. Had he not strayed from the wings of his side of the house, none of this would have happened.

"You should be happy though that this is happening sooner than later."

Miyako hits a knot. It seems like she cannot continue weaving her hair.

"Later…?" she gulps.

"You didn't honestly believe that you would remain like this?"

Her heart becomes erratic and heavy.

The elder woman before her calls for a servant who brings forth a tray. Slowly she places the object comfortable between her fingers, slowly moving them to ensure the thing works fine.

"Now kindly sit down so we can end this nonsense."

"But-"

"You are his replacement. Differences shouldn't exist."

And so she sits on the chair- something that feels odd. Nothing belongs to her anymore. Her head is held high, just like how his would be.

Each snip is unbearably loud and locks of hair soon start to surround her.

When the deed is done, she is given a mirror. She outlines her face, her eyes, her ears, her mouth but she doesn't see herself anymore. All who she sees is Yamato.

Indeed, nothing will ever be the same.


End file.
